The Staring Problem

The problem of staring is your’s and not mine. How can I help if your skin refracts light like a diamond? I’m simply trying to find the flaw in the structure, exquisite design to be sure – crystalline, with the eyes of your mother – this is no doubt why the strict Muslims cover their women – forgive them, some beauty is prismic, too livid to let slide without asking them into your life. The problem of staring is you look so right looking up at me smiling, softly replying, “No, I’m afraid that I don’t see it at all.”